


Total Reboot

by RowenaZahnrei



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon)
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, Rivalry, Self-Discovery, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-20 13:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4789121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowenaZahnrei/pseuds/RowenaZahnrei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a brilliant Duckburg scientist and her revolutionary new super fuel are snatched by F.O.W.L. agents, Darkwing and GizmoDuck are on the case. Can they put aside their egos long enough to get her back? And how is this scientist connected to Megavolt?</p><p>COMPLETE STORY!  Your comments and opinions are welcome and much appreciated! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Darkwing Duck or Duck Tales characters. Dr. Anita D. Sputterspark is an original character, but she was inspired by Anita Dillon, mother of the super villain Electro from the Spider-Man comics.

Total Reboot

By Rowena Zahnrei

"This is the city of St. Canard. Like any great megalopolis, it shelters its share of criminal conspirators. But the sleeping citizens of St. Canard need never fear the night. They can rest easy knowing they have a protector who is cannier than the most cunning criminal, sneakier than the shiftiest super villain!

"Who is this hero, you ask? There can be only one answer! For, he is the terror that flaps in the night! He is the fearless freedom fighter who forces felonious plots to fail! He is—"

"GizmoDuck!"

"He is GizmoDu—WHAT!"

Darkwing Duck leapt down from his window-ledge perch in a flurry of annoyance and purple cape.

"What do you mean, GizmoDuck?" he demanded, advancing on his two companions with his bill set in an angry pout. 

Gosalyn Mallard glanced up from the TV, an excited gleam in her big, green eyes.

"Oh, hi Dad," she said. "Hey, guess what! While you were up there monologuing, there was a special news flash on TV! Some super smart scientist at Duckburg University just came up with some new kind of super-clean, super-concentrated super-fuel!"

Darkwing's side-kick, Launchpad McQuack, nodded. 

"That's right, DW," the good-natured pilot said. "According to the reporter, one teensy little vial of the stuff would be enough to power all of St. Canard for an entire day with no harmful pollution. And guess what it's made of!"

"I don't dare speculate," Darkwing said dryly.

"Recycled cooking grease!" Launchpad exclaimed. "You know, the stuff they cook French fries and potato chips in."

Darkwing made a face. 

"And this is exciting, why?"

"Just think about it, Dad!" Gosalyn grinned. "Now, whenever you take us out to eat at Hamburger Hippo, we'll actually be helping the environment! See, I always said junk food was good for you!"

"Humph," Darkwing grunted, crossing his arms over his purple jacket. "That's all well and good, but what does it have to do with GizmoDuck?"

"That's easy, DW," Launchpad said. "Since Mr. McDee is footing the bills for that scientist's research, he hired GizmoDuck to guard her top-secret formula until the trial-run at the Duckburg Power Plant tomorrow afternoon!"

"Well, just so long as that metal-plated milquetoast stays on his side of the bay!" Darkwing huffed. "I can't stand GizmoDuck! He may be the personal bodyguard of Mr. 'I'm the richest duck in the world' Scrooge McDuck, but in my book he's nothing but a sap."

"Why?" Gosalyn taunted gleefully. "Just because his fan club is bigger than yours?

"No! I mean…well, I…" Darkwing sputtered. "That has nothing to do with it! It's because the two of us have radically different crime-fighting styles! For all his brash bluster, without that super suit of his, GizmoDuck would be helpless in the face of any real criminals. I, on the other hand, rely on my amazing agility, my wily wits, my incredible cunning—"

"Your super-high-tech gadgets," Gosalyn added wryly, glancing pointedly around Darkwing's tower bridge hide-out at the various tracking devices, super computers, and souped-up vehicles that cluttered the high-ceilinged metallic space. "C'mon, Dad, admit it. You and GizmoDuck aren't really all that different. You both wear a costume, you both rely on technology to fight crime—"

"Nonsense," Darkwing insisted stubbornly. "We are completely different! His goody-goody one-track mind seriously cramps my subtly sinister style."

Gosalyn snorted. "Whatever, Dad." The nine-year-old smirked. "But, believe me, there's nothing subtle about your style!"

Darkwing ground his teeth. 

"None of this matters anyway!" he exclaimed in annoyance. "Duckburg is GizmoDuck's responsibility, not mine. As long as he and that super-fuel stay there they have nothing to do with me! Besides," he said, snapping into a heroic pose, "it's past time for Darkwing Duck to go on patrol, scouring the streets for evil-doers. Come on, Launchpad! To the Thunderquack!"

Launchpad stood up with a dutiful nod. 

"Sure thing, DW. See ya later, Gos."

As the tall pilot ambled over to the powerful aircraft he had custom-built for Darkwing Duck, Gosalyn jumped up to stand on the couch.

"Hey, what about me?" she demanded, her short red pigtails bouncing slightly as she placed her hands on her hips. "I want to come too!"

"Not tonight," Darkwing said, hopping into the co-pilot's seat beside his side-kick. "You've got to get that math grade up, young lady, and I happen to know you wasted the whole afternoon playing Whiffle Boy when you could have been studying."

"But Da-ad!" Gosalyn whined. "That's not fair! The test isn't until Friday!"

"No buts! Just books!" Darkwing retorted. Then, his voice softened. "I'll be in to check on you later, honey. Oh, and don't try to cook anything while we're away!"

With that parting shot, the top to the cockpit closed and the Thunderquack lifted off, zipping out the window and into the clear, late-evening sky. 

Gosalyn watched it go, then sighed, slouching over to the pair of blue armchairs at the far end of the room.

"Geesh, you forget to turn off the stove one lousy time and you never hear the end of it," she grumbled. "Oh well, it's not that late yet. Maybe I can still get Honker to fill in my map for social studies."

Brightening slightly at the prospect of cajoling her genius best friend into finishing her homework for her, Gosalyn activated the spinning chairs that would send her back to 537 Avian Way—the unassuming suburban home she shared with Darkwing Duck's unassuming secret identity: Drake Mallard.

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

As the Thunderquack wheeled in ever-widening circles around the city of soaring skyscrapers, scanning the streets for any sign of suspicious activity, a skulking figure slinked unnoticed through the shadows, heading for the abandoned lighthouse at the far edge of town.

Slipping inside, the figure nimbly climbed the tightly curving stairs until he reached the round, cluttered room at the top. Careful of the giant battery strapped to the back of his yellow jumpsuit, he gingerly lowered his bulging sack to the floor, then started feeling around blindly for the light switch. Barely had he taken three steps, however, when—

"Yow! You rotten, no-goodnick power cord! Why'd you have to go and trip me? Hey, wait a minute… You've just given me an idea!"

Following the cord to its outlet, the lanky super villain shot a bolt of electricity from his gloved hands, supercharging all the wires in his hideout. Every appliance in the cramped space flickered abruptly to life—refrigerators and computer screens, television sets and radios, and strings upon strings of glowing light bulbs. 

Giggling madly, Megavolt jumped to his rubber-booted feet to bask in the sudden flood of light and sound his powers had unleashed.

"Ha ha!" he cackled over the cacophony. "Why pay the power company when you can charge up your fingertips! So my little beauties..." He grinned, darting back to his bulging sack. "What do you think of your new home?"

The bag was practically overflowing with light bulbs of every imaginable shape and size. As he gazed at them through his lavender-blue tinted safety goggles, the electrified rat's lean face melted into an expression that was almost tender.

"Aw, I understand," he said, crouching down to start gently unpacking the stolen bulbs. "You're too exhausted to speak after your ordeal. Stupid, inconsiderate convenience stores, forcing you to shine all day and all night! But don't you worry—I'm going to charge you up real good. Then, when you're better, I'll release you all back into the wild where you can be free, free, free!"

Dissolving once again into maniacal giggles, Megavolt dashed across the noisy room and began digging through boxes in search of a multi-outlet surge protector and enough adaptors to string up his new light bulbs with all the rest. His search was interrupted, however, by a special news bulletin blaring out from the radio nearest to him. 

Tilting his head, the super-charged super villain paused, his curiosity piqued by the announcer's words.

"Dr. Anita D. Sputterspark, professor of engineering and physics at Duckburg University, will be testing her new super-concentrated super fuel at the Duckburg Power Plant tomorrow afternoon," the announcer was saying. "The test is scheduled to last from 3:00 until 6:00 p.m., during which time all of Duckburg's power needs will be fueled by Dr. Sputterspark's top-secret formula. According to the professor's own report, just ten tiny milliliters of the formula is enough fuel to supply the whole city with clean, efficient power for a full day."

Megavolt's jaw dropped in astonished disbelief. 

"No way," he exclaimed. "That teensy little bit? But that's incredible!"

"It sure is," the announcer agreed. "And just to make sure this precious formula remains safe, Duckburg's own super-powered superhero, GizmoDuck, will be on duty, guarding the scientist and her lab—"

Megavolt had heard enough. Switching off the radio, the electrified rat rubbed his gloved hands together, the prongs of his plug-shaped helmet sparking with glee.

"I've got to get my hands on that super-fuel!" he declared. "Just think of the possibilities! I mean, for one thing, with a power source like that in my control, I wouldn't have to wear this stupid battery anymore!"

He glanced over at his toaster as if it had just made a comment. 

"Yeah, I know it looks cool," he told the appliance, "But do you have any idea how heavy it is? It's a wonder I haven't developed scoliosis, lugging this thing around everywhere! Huh—what was that?"

The refrigerator was now on the receiving end of Megavolt's blue-goggled glare. 

"No, I am not afraid of GizmoDuck!" He scowled. "That cybernetic robo-duck is no match for Megavolt! I could fry his circuits without even breaking a sweat!"

He straightened, glancing around the cluttered room with an eager smile. 

"Now come on, who wants to go with me?" he coaxed. "It means we get to drive in the car!"

Apparently, there was no answer because Megavolt sniffled, his posture drooping in disappointment.

"What, nobody? After all I've done for you?" he whined, starting to get angry. "Who rescued you from those appliance stores? Who saved you from a life of unappreciated servitude? Me, that's who! I'd think the least you could do is come keep me company on the drive—"

The brain-fried villain cut himself off. He dashed over to his lamp, tearing off the shade to unscrew the glowing bulb.

"Ow, you're hot!" he exclaimed, fumbling the bulb slightly as he blew on his gloved fingers. Then he grinned, snuggling the warm glass to his cheek.

"Oh, thank you, thank you," he said, giving the bulb a kiss. "I knew I could count on you. Night driving can get pretty lonely, and Duckburg is over an hour away! It's strange, though. Is it just me, or did that Dr. Sputter-something's name sound really familiar?" 

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged.

"Oh well, it doesn't matter," he said. "Let's go, my little bubbly-wubbly! It's time to steal us some super fuel!"

Megavolt turned on his heel with a high-pitched laugh, but he paused just as he reached the door.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot," he said to the light bulb. "You should always turn the lights out when leaving a room!" 

Holding out his hand, he drew the electricity he had discharged earlier back into his body, leaving his lighthouse hideout in darkened silence. He sighed with pleasure as the charge settled into his system, filling him with renewed energy. 

"Ah, that's better!"

With a final cackle, the villain hopped gleefully down the stairs, giddy with excitement and power. What made him happiest, though, was the knowledge that, since the object of his intended heist was in Duckburg, Megavolt wouldn't have to worry about his old nemesis Darkwing Duck getting in his way!

To Be Continued...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Duckburg University was silent and dark by the time Megavolt pulled up to the gate in his heavily customized electric car. The brain-fried genius had built the car himself out of various stolen parts, and its bizarre, rather haphazard design was a testament to his odd light bulb fixation. The ungainly vehicle was draped all over in multi-colored Christmas lights, and he'd fixed an enormous, rounded chandelier bulb to the center of the grill between the headlights so it looked like the car had a nose.

Scowling at the wrought-iron barrier that stood between his car and the university campus, the villain whined, "Oh, darn. The gate's locked! I guess that means we'll just have to have to walk to the physics lab, right buddy?"

There was apparently no reply, because Megavolt looked over to his light bulb companion—which was strapped securely into a specially designed pocket the super villain had attached to the passenger side seatbelt—and gave it a gentle shake.

"Wake up, my little friend!" he said brightly. "We're here!"

He waited a moment for the light bulb's response, then nodded. 

"That's a good point," he said. "I wouldn't want my little bulby-wulby to get all brokey-wokey. OK, then, you stay here. Just don't go back to sleep! I'm counting on you to warn me if any of these college punks try to make off with my sweet, sweet ride."

He started to open the door, then paused and turned back to the bulb. 

"What kind of question is that?" he asked. "Just reach over and pull the alarm—oh, yeah…" Megavolt laughed sheepishly. "No arms. Oh well, I know you'll think of something! I'll be back soon!"

Shoving the keys in the pocket of his yellow jumpsuit, Megavolt rolled up the windows—considerately remembering to leave them open a crack so the light bulb would get enough air—hopped out of the car, and boosted himself over the low, brick wall that separated the neatly manicured campus grounds from the street. It wasn't until he reached the student union clock tower at the far end of the quad that he realized he had no idea where he was going.

"Oh, swell," he moaned. "I'm lost! Why do they have to make these university campuses so darn big? It'll take me all night to—wait, what's that?"

A pale light shone through the glass doors of the student union. Megavolt dashed up the granite stairs and pressed his long nose against the glass, cupping his gloved hands around his goggles so he could see past his own reflection.

"Ah ha!" he cackled in giddy triumph. "Yes! It's a map of the campus! And it's lit from the inside! How brilliant! How useful! How utterly convenient!"

Switching in a heartbeat from ecstatic to serious, Megavolt frowned, squinting to make out the small print on the glowing map. 

"Now, let's see," he mused thoughtfully. "If I were a highly sophisticated physics research lab, where would I be…"

*******

"Erm, excuse me... Mr. GizmoDuck?"

"Cooming!" the metal-plated superhero practically sang, the rubber tire of his mechanical suit leaving a slight skid mark on the lab's concrete floor as he zoomed across the room. "But please, professor, there's no need for titles. Just call me: GizmoDuck! Everybody does, you know."

Dr. Sputterspark blinked. 

"Very well then, GizmoDuck," gray-haired lab rat said, adjusting her large, round glasses on her long, narrow nose. "There's something I need your help with."

Behind the visor of his helmet, GizmoDuck's white-feathered countenance lit up like a Ferris wheel at a county fair. 

"Anything, professor—you just name it!" he said. "After all, that's why I'm here: to render unto you the best protection and assistance a super-powered superhero can offer. So tell me, what is it you need?"

Dr. Sputterspark pointed, indicating the metallic bookshelf bolted to the wall above a complicated-looking computer console. 

"Could you reach that phone book for me?" she asked. "It's too high for me to reach, and I seem to have misplaced my stepladder."

GizmoDuck seemed to deflate somewhat at the mundane request, but he brightened almost immediately. 

"Sure thing, Doc. You probably need it to block the force of a high-powered laser beam or for use in an anti-gravity experiment, right?"

"Actually," the professor sniffed, "I want to look up the number for Pizza King. I'm feeling a bit peckish."

"Oh." 

Shrugging, the superhero rolled over to the shelf and, extending the arms of his suit, grabbed up the phone book.

"You know," he said, reeling his arms back in, "I could do with a slice or two of their famous pineapple and prosciutto pizza myself. These overnight jobs really have a way of depleting the old fuel tank. Say, Doc, how do you feel about anchovies—"

GizmoDuck never did learn Dr. Sputterspark's views on anchovies, because at that moment the door to the lab burst open in an explosion of crackling energy, momentarily blinding them.

"What in all the—" Gizmo started, raising the phone book to shield his eyes.

"It is I, Megavolt!" the stringy super villain proclaimed, halting his light show as he strode dramatically through the charred door. "Hand over the super fuel, or…um…" 

He paused, his menacing scowl draining away to be replaced with frustrated befuddlement. 

"Oh darn, I had it a minute ago…"

The villain trailed off, rubbing his chin as he struggled to remember what he'd meant to say. 

GizmoDuck and Dr. Sputterspark shared a confused look.

"Or what?" the professor asked at last.

Megavolt looked slightly desperate. 

"Or…erm…um… Just wait, I'll get it…um… Ha!" he exclaimed in triumphant relief. "Or else! That's what!"

Resuming his threatening advance, the villain raised his gloved hands with a dangerous glare. 

"Now, where's that super fuel?"

"Now now, just a minute, Megavolt!" GizmoDuck frowned, dumping the phone book on the nearest table. Holding out a warning hand, the superhero zoomed up to block his path. "You can't just burst in here and expect us to—"

"Out of my way, chrome dome!" 

The villain scowled, shooting a powerful bolt of electricity straight into the triangular chest of Gizmo's super suit. His rubber tire did nothing to dull the shock. GizmoDuck went flying across the room with a yelp, his suit sparking, flaming, and smoking as Megavolt's blast set off a chain reaction, shutting down all his systems in quick succession. Helpless to stop himself, Gizmo smashed headfirst into the lab's concrete wall and slumped to the ground, charred, dented, and unconscious. 

Megavolt blinked, then grinned, seemingly surprised.

"Wow, that was easy," he said. "Looks like someone needs to invest in a surge protector!" 

Cracking his knuckles, the villain then turned to the professor, who stood frowning at the smoking wreck that had once been her bodyguard.

"And now for you." He sneered, aiming his palms at her. "Give me the fuel, lady, unless you want to end up barbecued like your friend GizmoDork over there!"

The professor straightened slowly, facing him with a coldly defiant glare. 

"You wouldn't know what to do with it if I did hand it over to you," she retorted angrily. "Who are you, anyway? Surely 'Megavolt' can't be your real name."

"You're one to talk," Megavolt huffed. "What kind of stupid name is Dr. Spittlespark, anyway?"

"It's Dr. Sputterspark," she corrected sharply. "Dr. Anita Sputterspark. If you're going to rob someone you should at least have the decency to get their name right!"

Megavolt froze, his bloodshot eyes wide behind his goggles. 

"Sputterspark…" he repeated slowly. "Sputterspark… Ergh, why does that name sound so familiar!"

Megavolt dug his fingers into his plug-shaped helmet, his expression clenching as he jumped up and down in unrestrained frustration, struggling to force his staticky memories into focus. 

"Anita Sputterspark….Anita Sputterspark… GAAHH, I just can't get it! Your name is driving me mad—mad I tell you! MAD!"

The professor grimaced at the villain's emotional display. 

"Please calm down, Mr. Megavolt," she said. "You'll rupture something."

"How can I calm down!" Megavolt exclaimed, rapidly approaching panic. "This is the second time tonight my memory's cut out on me! At least, I think it's the second time. It might be the third…" He gasped. "Oh no—I can't even remember not remembering! This is terrible! You've got to help me, doctor, please!"

Dr. Sputterspark jumped back as Megavolt impulsively fell to his knees in pleading desperation, reaching out to embrace her ankles.

"Gah, get off me!" she exclaimed. "I'm not that kind of doctor!"

But then she paused, rubbing her chin as a sudden idea occurred to her. 

"Hmm," she pondered, musing to herself, "I may not be a physician, but perhaps there is something I can do after all. I just have to consider the symptoms: poor short-term memory, lack of emotional control… Yes, it could all be linked to his uncanny ability to channel energy through his body…" She snapped her fingers. "That's it! Mr. Megavolt, I need you to come with me."

Megavolt looked up. 

"Huh? What for?"

Instead of answering, the middle-aged professor grabbed the confused villain's skinny arm and pulled him to his feet. Yanking him across the room, she pushed him down onto a rubber-coated lab table and efficiently tightened a series of restraints across his chest, wrists, and ankles.

"Hey, wait—" Megavolt protested. "What is this? I'm the criminal mastermind here—you're supposed to be my victim!"

"Stop that fidgeting." The professor frowned in concentration, busy adjusting the controls of several odd-looking consoles. "You have to stay perfectly still if this is going to work."

"Why?" Megavolt asked nervously, still straining against his bonds. "What are you planning to do?"

Acting as if she hadn't heard, the professor aimed a small, hand-held scanning device at the villain's head and smirked as the results came up on the monitor screen behind her.

"Heh, just as I suspected," she said in satisfaction. "The constant exposure to high concentrations of electric current have caused the synapses of your brain to fire erratically—hence your memory problems and your lack of inhibitions. This would certainly account for your impulsive eccentricity and criminal tendencies. You see, the extensive brain damage caused by the powerful electric shocks you have exposed yourself to over the years has suppressed your conscience and wrought merry havoc with your rational mind. But don't worry, Mr. Megavolt, I think I know just how to fix the problem."

Megavolt's eyes widened behind his tinted goggles as Dr. Sputterspark wheeled over a very expensive-looking unit and began attaching it to her scanner console.

"Hey, that's a 38000 Series Magneto-Tap X50, isn't it!" he exclaimed in wonder. "I never thought I'd actually get to see one of those in real life!"

"Quite right." The professor nodded distractedly, thoroughly absorbed in her work. "This is one of only three prototype models in existence. I plan to use it to drain off the excess static charge that has been stored by your body. I will then send a controlled electric pulse surging through your system. This process should—in theory—reboot your brain, thereby shocking your synapses into resuming their original firing patterns. But first, I'm going to need to remove that battery of yours."

"Try it and you fry like bacon," Megavolt snarled, squirming and shifting until he was able to point a finger in her direction. Far from being intimidated, however, Dr. Sputterspark simply pulled out a pair of gleaming shears and snipped his battery harness in half. Freed from its restraint, the enormous, cylindrical battery rolled off the table, crashing to the floor with a heavy thud. 

Megavolt gave a small cry of dismay.

"Hey, no fair! Why can't I zap you!" he whined, pointing his finger at her again and again with no effect.

"As you can see, the Magneto-Tap X50 is working just as expected," the professor explained. "The incredible static charge that your body once stored is already nearly depleted. Another twenty seconds, and I shall initiate the electric pulse to reboot your brain."

"But what will that do to me?" the villain asked, eyeing the unit nervously.

"Well," Dr. Sputterspark considered, "if you were a computer, I'd say that rebooting your brain should return it to factory default settings, restoring your memory, conscience, and rationality all in one massive electric shock."

"Um, will it hurt?"

The professor shrugged. 

"If you were a normal man, the charge your system is about to receive would most likely be fatal. However, since from what I can tell you are essentially a living capacitor, any pain you feel will only be a temporary inconvenience."

Megavolt swallowed hard, helpless to resist when the professor pried off his plug-shaped helmet and replaced it with a metallic cap that bristled with blinking diodes. Three slender wires connected the cap to the Magneto-Tap machine.

"Ready, Mr. Megavolt?" she asked.

"Heck no!" the villain exclaimed. "Let me go, you nutty scientist! Get this junk off of me! I don't want to have my brain rebooted! Oh, why oh why can't that useless Darkwing Duck ever show up when I actually need him!"

"Oh no, Mr. Megavolt, you're not backing out now," Dr. Sputterspark scolded. "You asked me for my help—you begged me on your knees! And help is just what you're going to get. Now, brace yourself!"

Megavolt gasped in terror as he watched the professor yank down on a silvery lever. 

"No, wait—" he started, only to be cut off abruptly as a massive surge of electric current coursed violently through his hapless body, lighting him up from the inside like one of his beloved light bulbs. The surge was so overwhelming, the villain couldn't even scream.

Throughout the procedure, Dr. Sputterspark kept her eyes fixed on the scanner console monitor, watching Megavolt's brain wave patterns with clinical attention. Then, at just the right moment, she pushed the lever back up, cutting off the current.

Megavolt moaned dizzily. Anita grabbed her hand-held scanner and pointed it at his head once again.

"I did it!" she exclaimed excitedly. "All synapses seem to be firing normally! Speak to me, Mr. Megavolt," she said, leaning over his prone body to peer anxiously into his pale face. "Tell me how you feel!"

The electrocuted rat moaned again, then slowly opened his eyes. 

"M-mother?" he rasped, blinking blearily up at Dr. Sputterspark from behind his goggles. "Mother, is that you? You—" he gave a dry, wheezing cough, "—you look so old!"

Anita looked confused for a moment, then she gasped, backing away quickly with a hand pressed to her chest.

"Elmo…" she whispered shakily, her breath coming in sharp, quick gasps. "By the great Thomas Alva Edison-how could I not have seen it before!"

With swift, though trembling hands, Dr. Sputterspark carefully removed his tinted goggles, then quickly undid the restraints that held him to the table. Looking directly into her son's face for the first time, she felt her clinical heart melt, filling her eyes with stinging tears.

"Oh, my son," she said, tenderly stroking his short, wildly frizzy hair. "Oh, Elmo… How did this happen to you? Where have you been all these years?"

Elmo Sputterspark blinked slowly, struggling to focus his exhausted eyes. 

"Mother…it is you…" 

He smiled, relaxing against the table as he slipped away into unconsciousness.

Anita watched him sleep for uncounted minutes, seemingly frozen to the spot. She had all but given up hope of ever seeing her son again. Elmo Sputterspark had been missing for fifteen years, ever since the evening of his high school prom. Anita had tried everything to find him—from storming the police department to putting his face on milk cartons—but after a few years, it had all gotten to be too much. She had left her job at UCSC (University of Calisota, St. Canard) and moved across the bay to Duckburg—far enough to forget, but near enough to be sure she could get back at once the minute any new leads came in. In the meantime, she had poured herself into her work, closing her heart to all distractions until she had become nearly as cold and mechanical as many of her inventions. But now…

The professor's jumbled thoughts were interrupted by an incredibly loud buzzing noise coming from the corridor. Reluctantly looking away from her unconscious son, Anita was just in time to see a strange, boxy-looking hovercraft zoom through the open door to land heavily on the floor. The acronym F.O.W.L. had been stenciled on the side of the craft in large, black letters.

As the professor watched, her mind still too overwhelmed to make sense of what was happening, a small troop of three ducks in identical uniforms and egg-shaped helmets jumped out of the craft, followed by a tall, impeccably dressed rooster in a jacket so white it practically glowed. 

Anita barely noticed his sharp suit, however. Her eyes were drawn, instead, to what seemed to be a prosthetic beak made entirely of gleaming metal.

Catching sight of the unconscious GizmoDuck slumped against the wall, the rooster clucked out a sharp laugh. 

"Heh, heh, ain't this convenient!" he said, his nasal voice tinted with a hint of a New York accent. "Charred duck in a can! Looks like we won't be needin' this, then, boys!" 

He pulled a large laser gun out of his suit and tossed it carelessly into the back of his hovercraft. Only then did he turn his attention to Anita and her son.

"Dr. Sputterspark, I presume," the rooster said with a slightly ironic bow of his head. "But who is this limp specimen lying on the table before you? That yellow jumpsuit there looks familiar somehow…"

"Who are you and what do you want?" Dr. Sputterspark demanded, moving to stand between the menacing rooster and her son. 

The rooster raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I would have thought that was obvious," he said with a glance back to the bold lettering on his hovercraft. "But just because I've always been one to respect the social niceties, I'll spell it out for you. I'm Agent Steelbeak and these three losers you see behind me are a few of my Eggmen. We were sent by F.O.W.L. High Command—that's the Fiendish Organization for World Larceny, in case you didn't know—to collect that famous super fuel of yours…and you along with it. Boys!"

At their boss's summons, the three F.O.W.L. Eggmen swarmed the professor, lifting her off her feet before she had a chance to run. Dr. Sputterspark struggled and squirmed for all she was worth, but the Eggmen were far stronger than they looked. Together, they tied her hands behind her back, then dumped her unceremoniously into the front seat of their hovercraft. In the meantime, Agent Steelbeak used a fancy hand-held scanner of his own to lead him straight to the professor's main stash of super fuel.

Holding up a container of vivid, yellow-green liquid a little bigger than a gallon milk jug, Steelbeak frowned—quite a feat for a rooster with a prosthetic beak.

"What, is this all there is?" he said, turning a suspicious glare to Anita. "Where's the rest of it?"

"That's all I've made so far," Anita snapped angrily. "That formula is incredibly powerful. What you hold in your hands is enough fuel to power this city for nearly a year and a half."

Steelbeak whistled. 

"Very impressive!" he said, strutting back to his vehicle. "Yes, indeed, I am very impressed. High Command will be pleased."

Turning to his men, he ordered, "Come on, boys, back in the crate. The sooner we get this stuff back to our hide out, the sooner we can move on to stage three of our brilliant Master Plan for World Domination."

"Erm, but boss," the tallest of the Eggmen spoke up. "What about that guy on the table?"

"Don't mind him, he's just the janitor," Anita said, thinking quickly. "I think he breathed in too many fumes while he was cleaning the floors. I told him he could sleep it off in my lab."

"Strange," Steelbeak said, casting the unconscious Elmo another suspicious look. "You'd think a janitor would know better. But, never mind. Leave him there. We got what we came for, anyway."

The Eggmen piled back into the hovercraft, followed closely by Steelbeak and the super fuel. With a buzzing roar from the engines, the F.O.W.L. hovercraft lifted off the ground and sped out the door and down the corridor, gone as quickly as it had come.

To Be Continued...


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Gosalyn Mallard woke up to the insect-like buzzing of a small Flashquack messenger robot zipping in through her open window. The hand-sized 'bot looked like a miniature version of the Thunderquack, which in its turn had been designed to look like a gigantic, winged replica of Darkwing's head. The little 'bot hovered for a moment as if getting its bearings, then buzzed out the door into the hallway.

"Hey—hey, wait!" the girl called after it. "Daaad!"

Kicking her covers to the floor, Gosalyn charged out the door, racing the Flashquack to her father's bedroom. With mere seconds to spare, the athletic young duck made a flying leap onto her father's bed, knocking all the breath from his peacefully slumbering body for an undisputed win.

"GAAAACCCCHHHHHH!" Drake exclaimed, his bulging eyes shooting wide open as he gasped desperately for air. "Gosalyn—what the…! Get off me!"

"Message for you, Dad!" 

Gosalyn grinned, gesturing to the hovering Flashquack as she hopped nimbly off her father to stand impatiently by the bed. Drake, however, was more concerned with the bruises her flying tackle had left on his ribcage.

"Gosalyn," he started, still sounding rather breathless, "how many times do I have to tell you not to— Hey, look! It's a Flashquack messenger!"

Gosalyn rolled her eyes. 

"Duh, Dad. That's what I've been trying to tell you!" she said. "You've got a message from SHU—"

"It must be a message from SHUSH!" Drake cut her off, his injuries completely forgotten as he surged to his feet in excitement. "Yes, SHUSH: the super-secret government agency for super-spies of superior skill, shrewdness, and smarts has once again been forced to call on Darkwing Duck for assistance. Because for all their top-level technology, they know there is no substitute for my ingenious initiative, my—"

"Will you just open the thing already?" Gosalyn pressed, looking eagerly up at him as he bobbed on the mattress. "It's got to be important if it's come this early."

Drake shot her a look, but he reached out a hand to press the 'bot's broad orange beak. It opened wide to reveal a rolled-up slip of paper, which Drake snatched with an eagerness that rivaled his daughter's. Its mission complete, the tiny Flashquack buzzed back the way it had come. Drake and Gosalyn hardly noticed.

"What's it say, Dad?" Gosalyn asked.

"It's from J. Gander Hooter," Drake told her. "He says he tried to contact me at Darkwing Tower, but when he couldn't get through he sent the Flashquack to find me. Darn it," he scowled. "The one night I forget to set my alarm…"

"Dad, you were out on patrol all night," Gosalyn reminded him. "You can't be expected to be on the alert 24/7. I mean, you've got to sleep sometime, right?"

Drake behaved as if he hadn't heard. Jumping down from the bed, he grabbed Gosalyn's wrist and rushed with her towards the door.

"Come on, Gos," he said. "You wake Launchpad. I'll use my remote comm panel to contact J. Gander from downstairs."

Gosalyn nodded.

"Sure thing, Dad," she said, breaking away as Drake dashed down the hallway to the stairs. 

Making only a quick pit stop in the kitchen to grab a banana, Drake quickly donned the purple suit, cape, and hat that were the trademarks of his alter-ego, Darkwing Duck. Still chewing, the mighty mallard dived onto his living room couch and flicked the control that activated the remote control panel that linked up to the main computer housed in Darkwing Tower. As he watched, his webbed foot tapping impatiently on the carpet, the false wall behind the TV slid smoothly aside and the control panel eased forward, the small monitor screen flickering to life. Within moments, the picture focused and cleared, revealing the spectacled countenance of J. Gander Hooter, the diminutive, middle-aged head of SHUSH.

"Why Darkwing!" the little owl smiled. "There you are! I see you got my message."

"What's up, J. Gander?" Darkwing asked in his most professional-sounding voice.

"Oh, Darkwing, it's terrible; a real calamity!" Hooter told him. "I assume you know of Dr. Anita Sputterspark and the revolutionary super fuel she's invented?"

Darkwing looked uncomfortably blank for a moment, but his habitual expression of smug self-assurance quickly covered it up. 

"Of course I have," he said, straining his brain to recall just where he'd heard that name before.

"Well, I'm here at Duckburg University with Scrooge McDuck, the man responsible for funding the super fuel project," Hooter explained. "We were supposed to meet with Dr. Sputterspark about an hour ago to go over the procedure for the test scheduled for this afternoon. But when we arrived…"

He stepped back, allowing the camera to pan over the charred and mangled remains of a once state-of-the-art laboratory.

"As you can see, the place is a real mess," the spectacled owl continued. "Dr. Sputterspark and GizmoDuck—the young roboticized fellow who was supposed to be protecting her—are nowhere to be found. And worst of all, Darkwing—and this is the part we absolutely can't allow to get out—her entire stash of the super fuel appears to have gone missing as well!"

"I see your problem, J.G.," Darkwing nodded seriously, struggling to contain his inappropriate glee at the news that his rival, GizmoDuck, had apparently failed in his mission and quite likely gotten himself kidnapped too. "Have you been able to find any leads as to the identity of this conniving kidnapper?"

"Not precisely," Hooter admitted, "but there are a number of things about this lab that seem oddly out of place. For example, the door—which was open when we arrived—bears signs of exposure to an intense, focused heat. Also, we found this."

He gestured for the camera to get a shot of a large, cylindrical battery standing on a rubber-coated lab table equipped with restraining straps. Beside it was what appeared to be a snapped harness. 

Darkwing's eyes widened as he realized he recognized both objects.

"Those belong to Megavolt!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet to try to get a closer look through the screen. "Of course! That super fuel is supposed to be able to power entire cities, right? And Megavolt is power-mad! Naturally, he must have burst into the lab to snatch the super fuel….but wait…"

Darkwing frowned, realizing an inconsistency in his theory. 

"If Megavolt was there, why would he leave his battery and harness behind? Without his power supply, he's just another nut in a rubber jumpsuit."

"Unless," J. Gander put in, "he was taken as well."

Darkwing made a face. 

"But who would want to snatch Megavolt?"

"Obviously a villain who wanted to leave no witnesses to the crime," a new voice spoke up, this one tinted with a distinct Scottish accent. A moment later, a deeply irritated Scrooge McDuck had scowled his way onto the screen. "If you ask me—and none of ye have—this whole set-up speaks of a highly organized plot. Hooter, this thing is bigger than the Beagle Boys. I suspect F.O.W.L. agents at work!"

"F.O.W.L., eh?" Darkwing's eyes lit up as his imagination pictured himself—a daring, gallant figure—taking on and defeating the greatest minds of that international crime syndicate single-handed. "If F.O.W.L. is behind this, you have no need to worry. For I, Darkwing Duck, will take this case!"

Scrooge narrowed his eyes behind his spectacles. 

"Darkwing Duck? Aye, I've heard of you. You're the masked vigilante my old pilot Launchpad went to work for. I've seen the newspapers call you the Masked Mallard."

Darkwing straightened a bit. 

"That's right," he said.

Scrooge nodded, his expression softening somewhat with what seemed to be an amusing memory. 

"You'll not know this, laddie, but there was another Masked Mallard once—and he also wore a purple cape (1). He did a lot of good before he decided to hang up his mask—as I know you have done for your city of St. Canard.

"But before you get too cocky," he added, leaning in until his face filled Darkwing's screen, "that same Mallard is going to issue you a warning. McDuck Enterprises has invested a lot of money into the research and development of Dr. Sputterspark's formula. If it works, her fuel will greatly cut down on the use of natural resources, such as oil and coal. However, if I am forced to delay the field test too long, people, being the suspicious creatures they are, will begin to grow doubtful of this new technology. They will want to know what is causing the delay. Now, I can get away with putting the test off for one day—maybe two. But any longer than that and confidence in the product will begin to drop and public speculation will build. That is something none of us can afford. So, I'll agree to put my trust in you. But you must promise me to work with speed and discretion to bring the scientist and her formula back safely. –Oh, and if you happen to locate that blithering idiot Fent—I mean GizmoDuck—in the process, make sure you bring him back too. I have a few choice words I'd like to say to him."

Darkwing nodded, his expression an uneven mingling of smug self-satisfaction and extreme annoyance at finding out Scrooge McDuck had thought of wearing a purple cape before he had.

"You needn't worry, Mr. McDuck," Darkwing assured the scowling old businessman. "I am quite aware of the implications of this case. After all, speed and discretion are defining descriptors of what Darkwing Duck is all about."

Scrooge harrumphed at that, but Hooter smiled. 

"That's what we like to hear, Darkwing," he said. "I knew you'd be just the fellow for this job. I'll leave word with campus security that this lab and the surrounding grounds are at your disposal, should you need to investigate them. Good luck, Darkwing."

And with that, Hooter cut the transmission.

"Oh, say, was that Mr. McDee?" Launchpad spoke up from where he was making his way down the stairs. "I thought I heard his voice when I was upstairs. He's a great old guy, isn't he? I'm sorry I missed him."

"There's no time for regrets now, Launchpad," Darkwing told him as he sent the comm system sliding back behind the wall. "We must make haste to Darkwing Tower! I'll explain everything to you once we're in the Thunderquack."

"But what about me?" Gosalyn demanded, stepping out of the kitchen with a bowl of cereal in her hand. "If you've got a big case, then I'm coming along."

"No," Darkwing corrected, "you're going to school. Don't forget you have that test on Friday."

"But that's not fair!" Gosalyn whined. "My talents are wasted on school. They would be much better served helping you rescue the brilliant Dr. Sputterspark from the devious forces of F.O.W.L."

Darkwing frowned. 

"Gosalyn, were you listening in on my conversation with J. Gander?"

"Only for most of it," the young duck said with her most winning smile. "I missed the beginning, when you said 'What's up, J. Gander?'"

Darkwing and Launchpad shared a look. 

"Gosalyn," Darkwing said, "you are going to school today, and that is final. Finish up that cereal and get yourself ready. The bus comes in about fifteen minutes."

Gosalyn opened her mouth to protest, but at that moment the doorbell rang. 

"I'll get it!" she yelled. 

Plopping her cereal bowl on the nearest table, Gosalyn dashed into the foyer and yanked the door open. A split-second later, she had slammed it closed again.

"Gosalyn," Darkwing started, "what are you—"

"GizmoDuck is at the door with some guy!" Gosalyn announced, snatching away her father's purple hat and shoving a sudden sweater vest into his arms.

Darkwing looked startled, then deeply disappointed. 

"What? GizmoDuck is here!" he whined. "Then, he wasn't kidnapped after all?"

Gosalyn rolled her eyes. 

"Daad, hurry up! Gizmo doesn't know you're really Darkwing Duck! If you don't want your secret identity to get out, you've got to go back to being Drake Mallard, pronto!"

The doorbell rang again. Since Drake was still struggling to get changed, Launchpad took it upon himself to get the door.

"Hi guys," the tall pilot greeted through his friendly grin. "What brings you here, Giz old buddy?"

"Hi, Launchpad," Gizmo said. "I'm here on urgent business. Is your friend Drake at home?"

"Erm…" Launchpad started.

"Yes! Yes, I'm home!" Drake panted, nudging Launchpad out of the way so he could grin at his guests. "Why don't you both come in?"

"Gee, thanks." This was from Gizmo's companion; a tall, lanky rat. He stepped across the threshold, peering around the foyer and adjoining living room with some wonder. 

Drake shot him a sharp look. There was something about this stranger—the shape of his long nose, the raspy timbre of his voice—that struck him as oddly familiar, but for some reason Drake couldn't place where he'd seen him before. This was particularly irritating because the skinny rat was a static-cling nightmare from head to toe. He was dressed awkwardly in a clinging, button-down shirt and worn jeans that looked several decades out of date, and his short, frizzy hair looked as though, instead of combing it, he had rubbed it with a balloon. Drake couldn't help but make a face.

"Wow, Drake. You've got a real nice house here," the tall rat said, his smile making his buckteeth seem more prominent. "You must be doing well for yourself. –Oh, hello! You're the little girl who opened the door before."

"Yep, I'm Gosalyn Mallard," the red-headed duckling said. She held out a hand to the stranger, but when he took it she received a painful shock.

"Ow, hey!" she frowned, rubbing her hand on her shirt. 

The stranger ducked his head, seemingly mortified.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "That's been happening a lot lately…"

Gosalyn glanced up, a suspicious look in her eye. 

"Reeally? Hmm…" She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, her suspicious look turning sharply critical. "You know, you remind me of someone. What's your name?"

"Gosalyn, honey," Drake hissed out the side of his beak, "Manners…"

"Oh, it's OK, Drake," the rat said, looking down at Gosalyn with a rather awkward smile. "My name's Elmo. I used to go to school with your dad." 

Then, as if realizing what he had just said, he gave a start, glancing from Gosalyn to Drake with a strange smile. 

"Hey yeah, I guess Drake is your dad! Gee, I really have been out of it! Wow." He shook his head in wonder. "To think that Drake the Dweeb would have a daughter…"

Drake clenched his teeth, his eyes starting to bulge in annoyance, but Gosalyn just blinked.

"Elmo?" she repeated incredulously. "No way, not Elmo Sputterspark the science nerd!"

Elmo shrugged a little in consternation. 

"Yeah… I wouldn't have put it in quite those terms, but I suppose "science nerd" would have been an apt description of my social position in high school."

Gosalyn grinned. "Keen gear! Hey, Dad, check it out!" she exclaimed gleefully. "This guy here is Megav—!"

"Ah ha, Elmo Sputterspark, how great to see you again, long time no see," Drake cut her off quickly, sliding his way between the rat and his daughter to grab GizmoDuck firmly by the arm.

"Are you out of your metal-plated mind?" he growled in the superhero's ear. "What were you thinking, bringing this madman to my house! Why are you here, anyway?"

"Don't blame me for this, Drakaroonie, it was all his idea," GizmoDuck told him, looking a little put out himself. "I assured him I could handle the situation on my own, but he insisted on enlisting the aid of Darkwing Duck."

Drake, Launchpad, and Gosalyn all shared a slightly sick, startled look.

"D-Darkwing Duck?" Drake repeated with a desperate smile. "Wait a minute, I don't get it. If you're Me-eh-Elmo Sputterspark, why would you go looking for Darkwing Duck? And why come here of all places? I mean, look around. No Darkwing Duck here!"

Gosalyn rolled her eyes at her father's pathetic performance, but Elmo seemed to understand.

"You don't have to keep doing that, Drake," Elmo told him. "I know what you're trying not to say."

Drake paled. 

"You do?"

"Yeah. And you don't have to worry. I'm not Megavolt. Well, that is, I suppose I am Megavolt in the sense that I still possess the ability to generate a continuous static charge that can be focused and intensified with the aid of an outside power source. But you don't have to worry because I'm not going to use it. Honest, cross my heart."

Drake was so relieved to find that Elmo hadn't guessed he was really Darkwing Duck that he hadn't heard the rest of what the ex-criminal had said. But, Launchpad had, and even though much of it hadn't made sense to him, there was one thing the pilot did understand.

"Wow, good for you Mega—I mean, Elmo!" Launchpad grinned. "But what happened? Why the new attitude?"

Elmo lowered his eyes, his expression crumbling with shame. 

"It's all a little hazy," he admitted. "But last night, I hit bottom. I tried to rob my own mother. And the worst part was, I didn't even realize she was my mother! My mind was so far gone I couldn't recognize her."

"That's terrible," Launchpad gasped.

"I know," Elmo said, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "When I think back on it now, it's like the whole thing happened to someone else. I blasted my way into her laboratory and sent poor GizmoDuck over there flying into a wall. But my mother didn't even flinch. She didn't try to run away, or even to call the police. Instead, she saved me. She restored my identity, and my sanity. And now she's been kidnapped and it's all my fault!"

"Whoa," Launchpad said. "Your mother's been kidnapped too?"

Drake shot him a look, then turned it on the distraught rat. 

"Look, Sparky, just what are you trying to tell us? Do you expect us to believe that your mother is Anita Sputterspark, the famous inventor of that revolutionary new super fuel?"

Elmo nodded. 

"Yeah, that's her," he said. "And I would appreciate it if you would please refrain from calling me 'Sparky.'"

Drake chose to ignore that last comment. 

"And somehow," he continued, "she managed to untangle all those loose wires in your head?"

"In a manner of speaking. I can't really remember much of the actual procedure, but I do recall she spoke of sending an intensely focused surge of electricity shooting through my brain to force my synapses to resume their original firing patterns. She called it a 'reboot'."

Drake looked horrified. 

"Your mother gave you an electro-shock treatment?"

Elmo shrugged. 

"Well, to be fair, she didn't realize who I was at the time either. She thought she was shocking a deranged criminal."

"She was!"

Elmo stiffened at that, shooting the shorter duck a glare of sudden fury, mingled with shame.

"Oh yeah, well, what if she was?" he snapped. "It's not my fault I ended up the way I did! Do you think it's fun being insane? Do you think this is how I wanted my future to turn out? Heck no! I never asked to be made a freak! If you ask me, the last fifteen years of my life have been a travesty. You got to build a life, raise a daughter. Me—I got a criminal record and Swiss cheese for a memory!"

Drake frowned. 

"So…wait," he said. "You're saying that after fifteen years of criminal depravity and talking to light bulbs, you're no longer the deranged dynamo who once shorted out the entire city just so he could clear his sinuses?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying!" Elmo shouted. "Look, I don't care if you don't believe me. All that matters is my mother. She's been kidnapped, and with her her entire life's work! Are you going to help me or not?"

"Did you see who took her?"

"No!" Elmo cried. "That's why I need to find Darkwing Duck. That blast I gave GizmoDuck back when I was nuts shorted out half his systems. I was able to jury-rig a temporary fix this morning, but even so…" 

He sighed, his narrow shoulders dropping. 

"Look, my mother is in trouble, and I want her back. If GizmoDuck and Darkwing team up, it seems to me that with two superheroes on the case she will have a better chance of being rescued before anything…bad…can happen. Knowing Darkwing's ego, I'm not sure he'll agree, but you must see now why I have to take that chance."

He looked up then, his dark eyes pleading. 

"Drake, you were the only person who was ever even half-decent to me in school, and you, Launchpad, you're Darkwing's sidekick! If you guys can't help me find him, then nobody can."

Drake stared at him for a long moment, looking as though he was fighting a bit of an internal struggle. After a while, however, he smiled, reaching up to clap the taller rat on the shoulder.

"You did the right thing coming here, Elmo old buddy," he told him. "I'll contact Darkwing for you. I don't think he'll object to helping out an old school chum. Besides," he added, sliding his eyes over to GizmoDuck, who was standing in the corner quietly running a check on his suit, "it just so happens that Darkwing Duck is out right now working on this very case!"

"What?" GizmoDuck exclaimed despite himself. "Already? But I only found out about all this myself when I came to just three hours ago!"

Drake smirked.

"Well, you know what they say, Giz," he said tauntingly. "You snooze, you loose!"

He knew he should have stopped there but, after seeing his rival's expression, he couldn't help bragging just a little.

"In fact," he continued, "Darkwing's help on this case was requested by the head of SHUSH himself—along with your boss, Scrooge McDuck. Ol' Scroogy's looking for you, by the way, and he didn't sound very happy, did he, Launchpad?"

"Oh yeah?" GizmoDuck demanded with a suspicious scowl. "And just how would you know all this?"

"Simple," Drake said. "Launchpad is Darkwing's sidekick, and I'm his friend. Now, I've got to see Gosalyn off to school, but I'll give Darkwing a call and tell him to meet you at Darkwing Tower. I'm sure Launchpad would be only too happy to take you there, Elmo. As for you, Giz, I know Darkwing would understand if you wanted to return to Duckburg for more major repairs. I'm no mechanic, but even I can see you look a bit singed around the middle."

GizmoDuck straightened with a sniff. 

"I'm just fine, thank you," he assured the group. "And you can tell that masked miscreant Darkwing Duck that I, GizmoDuck, have pledged to remain on this case until the criminals responsible have been brought to justice. After my poor showing last night, I owe it to Dr. Sputterspark, and to myself."

"Drat," Drake muttered under his breath, before realizing that GizmoDuck was still looking at him. "I mean that's great, Giz," he said. "I'll be sure to let Darkwing know."

Striding forward, Drake opened the front door and fixed his guests with a pointed smile. 

"Well, Elmo, it was great seeing you again," he said quickly, all but shooing his visitors from the house. "We're definitely going to have to catch up sometime. But now, if you'll all excuse me, I've got a call to make, and you've all got to get moving. Right Launchpad?"

Launchpad looked questioningly at Drake for a moment, but then the light dawned. 

"Oh yeah, right! If you'd both follow me, please?"

Drake waited with an impatient smile until the three of them had filed past him out the door. Then, he dashed over to the closet where he and Gosalyn had stashed his purple suit.

"You can't possibly expect me to go to school now," Gosalyn spoke up as she watched him adjust his cape. "Not after all this. You've gotta let me stay and help!"

"I expect you to go to school and like it, young lady," Darkwing said with a distracted frown. "Now, where did I put my gas gun?"

"I'll only tell you if you let me—"

"Never mind, I found it," Darkwing said, patting his pocket. "Oh, and I think I hear the bus. Do you have all the books you need in your bag?"

Gosalyn sighed, glumly acknowledging that her dad was not going to give. 

"Yeah."

"Did you remember your lunch?"

"Yes, Dad."

"What about my hug?"

Gosalyn glared at her father for a long, stubborn moment, then let her shoulders drop with a sigh.

"Oh all right," she said, standing on her tip-toes to wrap her arms affectionately around his neck. "But you know you really don't deserve it."

Darkwing smirked and planted a kiss on the top of her head. 

"Love ya, Gos," he said, giving her a pat out the door just as the bus pulled up to the stop. "Have a great day at school!"

"Yeah, bye Dad!"

Darkwing watched Gosalyn climb onto the school bus with her neighbor, Honker, then waited while it continued on its way to the next block. Satisfied that she wasn't planning to sneak off the bus and follow him, Darkwing dashed across the living room and plunked himself down on one of his blue armchairs. With a slam of his fist on his statue of Basil of Baker Street, he was sent spinning on his way to Darkwing Tower.

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) There really was a Duck Tales episode called "The Masked Mallard." In it, Scrooge was hounded so badly by the tabloid press whenever he tried to do something charitable that he ultimately took on a heroic secret identity so he could do good without looking bad. Inspired by his nephews' old pirate films, he donned a purple mask and cape with a lightening motif and called himself The Masked Mallard. Although Scrooge never worked with SHUSH or faced off against F.O.W.L. in his heroic guise, both agencies showed up throughout the Duck Tales series.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"Ow—you're hurting me! Really, you don't have to hold on so tight. All the blood is rushing to my head. Stop. Stop now, I'm dizzy. Please, stop! That's enough— Put me down!"

The burly Eggman set his struggling charge down on a bench-like rock with a low grunt, only to receive a sharp kick in the shin for his trouble.

"Yowch!" the large duck exclaimed, hopping on one foot so he could hug his wounded leg. "That hurt, lady!"

"That's Doctor 'lady' to you, musclebrain," Dr. Sputterspark snapped irritably, glancing around at her dank new surroundings as she primly straightened her lab coat and replaced her glasses on her nose.

After several hours of traveling in the dark, the hovercraft had finally come to a stop at a narrow, electronic door camouflaged to blend in with the side of a mountain. Dr. Sputterspark had, at first, been allowed to walk down the labyrinthine passages that twisted through the mountain, but after five stubborn refusals to move another step followed by an aborted escape attempt, the metal-mouthed rooster in charge had ordered the lumbering Musclebrain to carry her the rest of the way. Even then, she'd done her best to make trouble for them, complaining and struggling the entire time. Unfortunately, that smug, self-satisfied Metal-Mouth hardly took any notice, as he was strutting far at the head of the line.

Now, it seemed they had at last reached their destination: a dark, dripping, freezing cave. The only light came from a few sparsely scattered electric bulbs recessed into the craggy walls. Metal-Mouth and his other soft-boiled Eggmen had already disappeared through a crack in the cave wall, taking her container of super fuel with them. Dr. Sputterspark sighed. The way that flashy rooster had been ignoring her since the kidnapping made her wonder why he'd bothered taking her along in the first place.

"Well, it looks like it's just you and me, Musclebrain," she said, crossing her arms with a scowl. "So tell me. Where are we? What kind of place is this?"

"It's Ephram."

Dr. Sputterspark squinted. 

"Pardon?"

"My name," the hulking giant sniffed. "It's Ephram. You keep calling me 'musclebrain.' That hurts."

"Oh, good grief," Dr. Sputterspark rolled her eyes. "Look, Ephram, I'm a physicist, OK, not a psychologist. I'm really not interested in working through your emotional issues right now. I have issues of my own. Or did you forget I've been kidnapped and had my greatest invention stolen by some shady rooster in a tux?"

"And does that make my feelings any less valid?" Ephram demanded. "All my life, people have been putting me down, taking me for granted, challenging me to fight just to make themselves feel bigger. Everyone assumes I'm stupid just because I'm strong. And you're just the same. Assuming superiority without even bothering to start a conversation. Do you have any idea how irritating that is? How demeaning?"

Anita sighed, resting her forehead against her palm in resigned exasperation. 

"You're right," she said. "I did make assumptions about you based solely on your appearance. That was unwarranted, and I apologize."

The tall duck blinked behind his helmet. 

"What, really?"

"Yes, really," she said, and scowled. "But that's all I'll apologize for. You deserved that kick, and any other blows I managed to get in while you were lugging me down those passages like a sack of potatoes. You may not view yourself as a brute, but you sure behave like one. You've been a willing party to this illegal operation from the start. So, maybe you're not a musclebrain. But you are a criminal."

"I can accept that," Ephram acknowledged. "I did look into other career options after leaving school. Thing is, though, I've never been one for that 9-5 grind. Being a F.O.W.L. henchman gives me the flexible schedule I want, plus the opportunity to travel."

"Let's not forget the criminal record," Anita pointed out.

"I like to live dangerously," the large duck said through a grin. "It's the adventure, the thrill of the chase. Cops 'n' Robbers. A touch of intrigue to add spice to the game of life."

"Until you end up in jail."

"Yeah, but even then henchmen like me usually get off easy. We're the small potatoes. Prosecutors like to use us to get at the big guns, so they're quick to make favorable deals."

Dr. Sputterspark shook her head, bemused and a touch disgusted by what she was hearing. 

"Yeah, well, whatever floats your boat, right? But now that we've had this little bonding session, perhaps you'll be more willing to answer my questions."

Ephram shrugged. 

"Shoot," he said.

Anita narrowed her eyes. 

"Where exactly are we?"

The Eggman straightened. 

"Well, I wasn't supposed to say, but since you've been so civil…" 

He glanced around the empty cavern, then leaned in close, cupping a hand to his beak so as not to be overheard. 

"We're in F.O.W.L.'s newest secret base, deep inside old Mount Demontooth. If you go out through there," he pointed to the wall crack the metal-mouthed rooster had disappeared through, "you'll see we're actually stashed behind a waterfall. It can be quite beautiful in there when the sun's angled just right. Like a curtain of rainbows."

Anita smirked. 

"How poetic," she said dryly. "And that's where your boss has taken my super fuel?"

"Oh yes," Ephram smiled proudly. "That's where he keeps the weapon."

"The weapon, eh?" the scientist repeated mockingly, clearly annoyed. "So that's what he's after, is it? He wants my super fuel to power some ridiculous weapon! Probably planning to hold the world hostage or some such clichéd nonsense. Well, I'm not having any part in it."

Ephram winced. 

"You say that now," he warned, "but in the end, I don't think you'll have much choice."

"Oh no?" Anita glared, surging to her feet and storming for the opening in the wall. "Then watch this."

Ephram rushed to block her way. 

"Doctor, I can't let you in there," he said.

"There's no such thing as can't," Dr. Sputterspark retorted. "You're perfectly capable of letting me through if you put your mind to it."

"All right, I could let you in there," the Eggman amended. "But I won't. It's more than my job's worth, I promise you."

"Then your job's not worth much," the scientist snapped, still advancing as he continued to block her path, walking backwards with his arms outstretched. "Now, out of my way, Ephram. I've got some choice words I'd like to share with that rooster boss of yours."

"No!"

Ephram tried to grab her, but the slender scientist feinted right, then dodged nimbly to the left, leaving the hulking henchman clutching only a handful of air. Scurrying past him, Anita slipped triumphantly through the crack in the cave wall—

—only to stop short at the startling sight that met her eyes, her mouth agape below her gleaming glasses.

Ephram hadn't been exaggerating about those rainbows. If anything, he'd drastically understated their magnificence. The roaring waterfall poured down the front of the wide, high-ceilinged space like a rippling curtain of light and sound. The rainbows stood out in relief against the rushing water, like holograms, delicate and ethereal, almost unreal. But it wasn't the cave's natural beauty that left the scientist speechless. It was the sight of the amazing hoard of futuristic technology it shielded.

Unlike the dank cavern she'd just left, this one was brightly lit and simply bursting with highly advanced computer consoles and monitor screens. These sleek, elegant machines were all far beyond what Anita had believed to be state-of-the-art, and all were staffed by grim, professional-looking personnel. And the centerpiece of this bustling hub was even more impressive. At once complex and streamlined in design, it loomed at least two stories high. Just standing in its presence took her breath away.

"Impossible," she whispered, stepping further out into the massive space.

"Well well, if it isn't Dr. Sputterspark. Eluded the guard, I see."

Steelbeak's sharp voice cut through her awestruck wonder and she turned, her thoughts spinning wildly.

"So, Doc, now you're here, whaddya think?" The metal-beaked rooster smirked. "Pretty impressive, wouldn't you say?"

"What—what do you intend to do with that?" the overwhelmed scientist managed to stammer.

The rooster's smirk broadened into a steely smile. 

"Let's save the expose for a later time, yeah? For now, suffice it to say that this here satellite you see before you is the key that will unlock the door to complete world domination. Those high level egg-heads scuttlin' around over there are just now puttin' on the finishing touches. By this time tomorrow, F.O.W.L. High Command will have full control of the world economy. And it's all down to you, Doc."

"No…" Anita gasped, horrified.

"I do not tell a lie," Steelbeak assured her, draping his arm around her shoulders in a comradely manner. "Your invention made this whole scheme possible. And if you cooperate nicely, I might even let you live to see our satellite super-weapon finally take off."

To Be Continued…


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"You see, in order to understand division, you have to understand multiplication. And, the multiplication tables are mainly just patterns, repeated over and over again. Once you know the patterns, anyone can count to three-hundred by threes, or four-hundred by fours—"

"I can count to five-hundred by fives," Gosalyn called out. 

Her friend Honker Muddlefoot shot her a look. 

"Anyone cad do that," he said. Honker had terrible allergies and his beak was always clogged, making him sound as if he had a perpetual cold.

"Yes, well," said Elmo, "that's because that pattern consists of only two repeating numbers: five and zero."

Gosalyn scrunched up her forehead. 

"No it doesn't. It goes five, ten, fifteen, twenty—"

"No, no, no stop! Here, I'll illustrate," Elmo offered, turning to the white marker board Darkwing Duck kept around for jotting down ideas as he worked out a case.

Elmo, GizmoDuck, and Launchpad had found Gosalyn and Honker hiding out in Darkwing's top secret Audubon Bay Bridge base when they arrived. As it turned out, Gosalyn had employed her singular powers of persuasion to talk Honker into sneaking out of the schoolyard before the morning bell rang, then hitched them a ride on the city bus to the stop nearest the bridge. They had arrived at Darkwing's hideout only moments before Launchpad's group, and mere minutes before Darkwing Duck himself came spinning in. The only thing that had cooled the caped crusader's flaming wrath when he spotted the kids was Elmo's offer to help Gosalyn study for her upcoming math test while Darkwing, Launchpad, and GizmoDuck turned to technology to try to track down the kidnapped Dr. Sputterspark and her stolen super-fuel.

Uncapping a stinky red marker, Elmo wrote 5, 0, 5, 0 down the board in a vertical line.

Gosalyn frowned. 

"And what's that supposed to mean?" she asked. 

Elmo went back up the line, adding a 1 before the first 0 and the second 5 and a 2 in front of the last zero.

"5, 10, 15, 20," he said. "Like I told you, it's a pattern of only two repeating numbers. If you know the pattern, you can carry it on to infinity."

"I still don't get it," Gosalyn scowled. "What's the point of all this pattern stuff when I can just memorize the order?"

"Memorizing numbers isn't understanding them, you know," Elmo pointed out. "Maybe it'll make more sense if I demonstrate with a more complicated pattern. How about the fours table!"

Gosalyn rolled her eyes. 

"Oh brother," she grumbled, looking over her shoulder to where Darkwing and Gizmo were huddled over the computer terminal, arguing, pressing buttons and looking thoroughly engrossed in their work. "This is crazy! I came here to help Dad catch the bad guys, not listen to a de-deranged Megavolt babble on about stupid numbers!"

"Would you rather be id school?" Honker asked.

"No, of course not! But this stinks almost as much." Gosalyn sulked. "Why do I have to study math, anyway? I mean, Elmo here's a math whiz and look where it got him!"

Elmo looked up from his scribbling. 

"Did you kids say something?"

Gosalyn and Honker put on their best innocent expressions. 

"Nope, not a thing Mr. Sputterspark."

"Oh. OK, then." 

He stepped back from the board, where he'd scrawled two neat rows of thick, red numbers. 

"Now, let's see if this helps," he said. "Over here we have 4, 8, 12, 16, 20. And over here we have 24, 28, 32, 36, 40. Can you see the pattern?"

"Yeah, they all increase by fours," Gosalyn said. "Can we go see what Da—I mean, Darkwing and GizmoDuck are doing now?"

"Not yet," Elmo frowned. "I promised Darkwing I'd help you with your math, and if it means he'll find my mother even that much quicker, then helping you with your math is what I'm going to do. Now, patterns. Aside from them all increasing by fours, what do you notice about these two rows of numbers?"

Honker spoke quickly, hoping to stave off an argument. 

"If you add 20 to each of the numbers id the first row, you get the numbers id the second row," he said. 

Elmo looked startled. 

Gosalyn rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Um, uh, yes. You're right," the tall rat said. "But that's not the pattern I meant. 4, 8, 2, 6, 0," he pointed. "When you count by fours, those five numbers repeat over and over again all the way up. So, if I gave you the number 56 and asked you what came next, according to the pattern, what would you say? No, not you, Honker, I want Gosalyn to answer this one."

Gosalyn folded her arms and glared at the staticky rat. He stared right back, wide-eyed and expectant. Gosalyn sighed again and looked at the board. 

"OK, 56, right? After 6 comes 0, so…60. It'd be 60. Right?"

"Right!" Elmo beamed a smile of proud delight that changed his whole face. Seeing how happy he was suddenly made Gosalyn feel a little bad about the way she'd been talking behind his back.

"And after 60?" he prompted.

"Um, 64. Then 68 I guess and, um…after eight comes two…uh, 72, 76, and…uh…80! Then 84, 88, 92, 96, 100!"

Honker's eyes widened behind his glasses. 

"She got id!" he exclaimed.

"She got it!" Elmo cheered.

"I got it!" Darkwing Duck cried out from the computer terminal. 

Dropping the math lesson at once, Gosalyn, Honker, and Elmo raced to the superhero's side. Launchpad also dashed over, leaving his tools under the Thunderquack.

"What do you mean you got it?" GizmoDuck frowned at Darkwing. "I was the one who figured it out!"

"Only thanks to my brilliant input," Darkwing snapped back. 

GizmoDuck straightened.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Guys, guys, please!" 

Elmo quickly inserted his skinny self between the two posturing heros, accidentally transmitting a sharp electric shock as he brushed Darkwing's arm.

"Yowch!" Darkwing jumped and rubbed the injured spot.

"Ooh, I didn't mean—" Elmo flushed, terribly mortified. "Sorry, sorry. Sorry!" 

Darkwing growled. The tall rat slunk back toward Honker and Gosalyn, who gave his arm a comforting pat.

"As I was saying..." Darkwing frowned, turning a glare back to GizmoDuck before going on, "I think I may have found the location of F.O.W.L.'s current hide out!"

"That's great, DW," Launchpad said, looking curiously at the greenish grids and reddish blobs that filled the computer screen. "Uh, where is it?"

"We're not entirely sure," GizmoDuck admitted. 

Darkwing scowled.

"But we did a scan searching for any large, anomalous energy emissions," the masked mallard added, tapping at the keyboard, "and we got a reading right here." 

The picture on the monitor shifted to a detailed map of Calisota, complete with roads, valleys, and mountain ranges. Darkwing pointed to one mountain in particular…

*******

"Old Mount Demontooth," he announced, peering down at its craggy slopes from the co-pilot's seat of the Thunderquack. GizmoDuck was just visible to the far right, using his helmet-propeller to cut through the air like a one-man helicopter. "This has got to be the place."

"Keen gear!" Gosalyn cheered from behind him. "F.O.W.L.'s secret base! Do you think that shifty sneak-thief Agent Steelbeak is down there?"

"Gosalyn!" Darkwing exclaimed in angry surprise. "How did you get in here? I thought I told you to stay at the Tower!"

"You did," Gosalyn admitted, "but I couldn't just sit around while you guys had all the fun. So, I did what any kid would do: hid in the hold and snuck into the cabin through the hatch in the floor."

"What!" Darkwing rose several inches off his chair.

"Calm down Da—I mean, Darkwing, it's not that big a deal. Oh, and Honker's here too." 

Gosalyn smirked, plopping down on the backseat beside Elmo.

"Hello, sir," Honker said, nodding sheepishly to Darkwing as he sat down by Elmo's other side.

Darkwing's teeth gritted so tightly together it was a wonder they didn't break. 

"We'll talk about this later, young lady," he growled. "Preferably when I have a large mallet handy. And don't expect to see a cent of your allowance any time soon. When we get home, you are grounded. For life, if I have anything to say about it."

"But Daa—Darkwing…" Gosalyn whined.

"No buts! You know how I feel about you putting yourself in danger! And Steelbeak is about as dangerous as they come."

"Oh yeah? And what about Moliarty, huh? And Quackerjack and Bushroot and Meg—" she glanced at Elmo, "NegaDuck! I've come face to face with all of them without getting into any trouble."

Darkwing shot her a sharp look over his shoulder. 

"Well, not much trouble, anyway," Gosalyn amended mullishly. 

Darkwing sighed and brought a hand to his forehead.

"Well, since you're here, I guess you might as well help out."

"YES!" Gosalyn jumped up and threw her arms around Darkwing's neck from behind his chair. "Thanks Da—Darkwing, you won't regret it."

"Don't be too quick to thank me," Darkwing warned, once he could breathe again. "This isn't a like a video game or a comic book, you know. This is real life, with real life-threatening peril! I'm going to need you to do exactly as I say, when I say it, with no backtalk or argument. You are to adhere to the spirit and the letter of every rule I lay down. Promise?"

"Promise," Gosalyn assured him. 

Darkwing nodded, although he still didn't seem completely satisfied.

"Coming up on our target now, DW," Launchpad spoke up. "Anyplace in particular you want me to put her down?"

Darkwing scanned the readouts on the cockpit controls.

"Erm…how about that small cave opening, just there. Near the waterfall."

"Can do, DW!" the pilot smiled. "I'll just signal to GizmoDuck that we're landing."

"Yeah, you do that, Launchpad," Darkwing said, shooting his self-propelling rival a dirty look through the window. "That metal-plated mental midget would probably fly right past the mountain without us here to guide him down," he scoffed. Then Launchpad made a sudden sharp turn and Darkwing found himself too preoccupied with keeping his lurching stomach in check to say any more.

*******

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"Perimeter breach, Agent Steelbeak," one of the eggheads called out from the cavern's bustling lower level. "Uncleared aircraft reported landing by the side entrance."

Dr. Sputterspark raised her eyebrows, which were just about all she could move. After his initial tour, Steelbeak had tied her to one of the struts supporting the satellite and gagged her mouth in true villain style. He'd then taken his place at the head of the room, smugly surveying the scene playing out below. Now, the preening rooster dropped his feet from the table and stood up, sauntering to the skinny egghead's side. For a moment, Anita's hopes rose. If the F.O.W.L. agents were nervous, maybe help was on its way. But her hopes were dashed when, as soon as he saw the image on the security monitor, Steelbeak broke out in a cackle.

"Why, if it isn't Goofwing Guff," he said, and smirked. "And, what luck! GizmoDuck! A regular two for one, wouldn't you say?"

"You want we should take 'em out, boss?" a short Eggman asked, hoisting his weapon. Steelbeak appeared to consider.

"Nah, let 'em come," the rooster said, his confidence making Anita's skin crawl. "There ain't nothin' those two nitwits can do to mess up our plans at this stage. In fact, let's set up a grand welcome! We're makin' history here, boys! Darkwing and that GizmoDork deserve to have a ringside seat…right alongside the good Professor Sputterspark."

To Be Continued...


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Darkwing Duck jumped dramatically from the Thunderquack's cockpit, his purple cape billowing behind him, and immediately began taking charge.

"All right, Launchpad, GizmoDuck, you're with me," he said. "Gosalyn, Honker and Elmo: I want you three to stay in the Thunderquack where it's safe."

"Hey, no fair!" Gosalyn protested.

"Yeah!" Elmo frowned. "How come I gotta stay? I'm not a kid. In fact, until recently I was ranked as one of the top supervillains in St. Canard! That kind of hands-on experience should count for something, don't you think?"

Launchpad nodded. 

"He's got a point, DW."

Darkwing thought quickly. 

"Eruuummm, well, yeah, of course it counts for something! But that's why we need you here. To…um…to guard the Thunderquack! After all, if anything happens to our ride while we're in that cave, we won't have a way off this rock."

Elmo didn't look convinced, but he shrugged. 

"Well, I guess that makes sense. Sort of."

"It might make sense for him, but not for me," Gosalyn snapped. "You just said that if I adhered to the spirit and letter of the rules I could help out!"

Elmo nodded. 

"That is true. And what about my mother? I would like to be present when you find her."

GizmoDuck rolled closer, the sun gleaming off his white metal chest plates. Elmo raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare.

"For once, I'm afraid Darkwing is right," the superhero said in his noblest tones. Darkwing folded his arms with a huff. GizmoDuck continued, "I'm sorry, Gizmo-Buddies, but dealing with F.O.W.L. henchmen requires very specialized skill and experience. While we appreciate your offer to help, in this case, the risk is too great."

"Specialized skill and experience," Gosalyn scoffed, completely unimpressed by the way the efficient roboduck seemed to ooze authority. "I may be just a kid, but I've got just as much experience tracking down villains as you guys. I've met up with Steelbeak bunches of times and, let me tell you, if I hadn't been there, my Da—"

"Gosalyn," Honker cut in. "You promised you wouldn't argue."

"But Honker, don't you want to help locate F.O.W.L.'s secret headquarters?" she whined.

"Umb, nod really," he sniffed. "Personally, I'd rather stay here wid Elmo."

"Then it's settled," Darkwing snapped. "Gosalyn, Elmo, you're staying here with Honker. The rest of you, come with me!"

"Well, how do you like that!" Elmo exclaimed, and frowned indignantly as Launchpad and the two superheroes charged into the cave. 

Gosalyn slammed herself back into her seat, arms crossed and chin down.

"Way to go, Honk," she sulked. "Now we're stuck sitting out here like a bunch of—"

A loud, clattering crash echoed from the cave, followed by some surprised yells and a harsh, fiendish laugh. 

Elmo and Gosalyn sat straight up, sharing a look of alarm.

"Oh my," said Elmo. "That didn't sound good."

Gosalyn jumped onto the copilot's seat and cupped her hands against the glass to try to peer into the cave. 

"I know that cruel cackle," she said. "That's Agent Steelbeak!"

"Umb, oh no," Honker said, his eyes wide behind his glasses. "If he's laughing, things can't be good for Darkwing and the others. He must have got the drop on them!"

Elmo rubbed his chin. 

"Actually," he said, "speaking as a former supervillain, I'd surmise that such a scenario implies F.O.W.L. has been anticipating their arrival for some time. Now that I think about it, I wouldn't be surprised if this entire area was left clear just to lure Darkwing, Launchpad and GizmoDuck into a specially pre-prepared trap."

"And the three of them walked right into id!" Honker swallowed. He looked nervously from Elmo to Gosalyn. "What do we do now?"

Gosalyn turned on them, her green eyes blazing with determination. 

"We're gonna go in there and rescue them, that's what," she proclaimed. "If that sleazy Steelbeak's here, I'll bet a full month's allowance he's got that super-fuel stuff here with him."

"Not to mention my mother," Elmo agreed. "We've got to go in."

"But—" Honker started.

"Yes, Honker, and you're absolutely right," Elmo said. "It would be foolhardy of us to charge blindly into the unknown. What we need is a plan to counteract any possible contingencies that could hypothetically lead to—"

"Yeah, yeah, a plan," Gosalyn interrupted. "Or a really good disguise." 

She tilted her head suggestively toward a pair of Eggmen who had just emerged from the cave, presumably to stand guard over the Thunderquack now that Darkwing and his team had been captured. She smiled at Elmo. 

"What was that you were saying about a 'charge'…?"

Elmo furrowed his brow. 

"In what sense?"

Gosalyn rolled her eyes. 

"Oh, for goodness sakes! Look, didn't you say back at the house that, even though you're not Megavolt anymore, you still possess the ability to generate a continuous static charge?"

Elmo and Honker stared at her. 

"Wow, Gosalyn. You recited that practically verbatim."

Gosalyn shrugged. 

"What can I say? When things are important, I listen. Sooo, Mr. Sputterspark? You think you can summon up a blast to lay those Eggmen flat?"

Elmo looked blank for a moment, then a slow, wicked smile crept over his face. Cracking his knuckles, he raised his index fingers until they were only about a centimeter apart.

"You know something, kid," he said, a small zap of electricity flashing from one finger to the other. "I like the way you think. Now, how do I get out of here without those egg guys noticing?"

*******

Elmo slipped out the hatch and dropped to the rocky ground as stealthily as he could. With a quick glance back up at Gosalyn and Honker, the staticky rat ducked down and tiptoed quickly behind a bush. 

The Eggmen guards made no indication that they'd seen him. They just stood there like a pair of statues, staring straight ahead into empty space with their weapons at the ready.

"Gosalyn, do you really think this will work?" Honker asked, watching nervously as Elmo crept from bush to bush, inching ever closer to the guards. "I mean, without his battery as a power source, Mr. Sputterspark will have only ambient electrical energy to draw upon. For all we know, one good blast might deplete his energy store!"

"Quit looking at the down side, Honk," Gosalyn said. "See, he's already at the cave. A few more steps and…"

The kids held their breath as Elmo rose up from his crouched position behind the taller Eggman and clasped him on the shoulders. Bolts of electricity shot from his hands, wrapping around the startled guard who went as rigid as a tree. When the second guard rushed over, Elmo grabbed him too, linking them in a three-way circuit. After a few moments, the current died and the two Eggmen crumpled, unconscious, to the ground. 

Elmo slouched back, exhausted but beaming. 

Gosalyn and Honker leapt out of the Thunderquack to join him.

"I knew you still had it!" Gosalyn told him proudly. "Now, come on. Let's get into these Eggman suits before these guys wake up!"

To Be Concluded…


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

"Umb, Gosalynd—ow!" Honker staggered, nearly toppling over in the too-big boots of the "borrowed" Eggman suit he and Gosalyn shared. "Gosalynd, you're standing od by face!"

"I wouldn't have to stand on your face if you'd just walk straight!" Gosalyn snapped back, struggling to retain her balance on his narrow shoulders. "I can barely see out of this stupid visor. How long is this tunnel, anyway? Whooaaawhoops—!"

Elmo stopped their fall just in time, catching Gosalyn by the shoulders and helping her and Honker reestablish their balance in the stuffy suit.

"Phew," Honker said. "Tanks Mr. Sputterspark. Dat was a close oned."

"You're welcome," Elmo whispered, his long nose and whiskers looking oddly out of place poking out from under his Eggman helmet. "But I really would advise you to keep quiet now. There's a tremor in the electromagnetic field here in this cave, and it's getting stronger as we move down this tunnel. I can feel it in my skin…buzzing in my ears… Ah, here!" He pointed down a poorly lit tunnel that branched off the main passage. "The disturbance is emanating from that direction! I propose we turn left."

Honker nodded invisibly in the suit and shuffled after him, doing his best to ignore the painful weight and pressure of Gosalyn's feet on his shoulders. After three aching, stuffy minutes, he looked up. "Umb, does anyone else hear water?"

"Hey, yeah," Gosalyn said. "It sounds like a waterfall."

"I can see a light ahead," Elmo whispered. "Come on, F.O.W.L.'s base can't be much further now."

The dim tunnel opened onto a broad, rocky ledge that overlooked a bustling hive of advanced technology and busy F.O.W.L. agents. Some rough stairs had been carved into the steep rock face. These stairs led down to a metal overhang and from there to the main floor of the cavern. But it wasn't the layout, the fancy computers, or even the prismatic sheet of roaring water that walled off the far end of the cavern that caught and held their attention. It was the massive satellite that towered at the cavern's center…and the four figures strapped to its support struts.

"…Mother…" Elmo breathed, even as Gosalyn gasped, "Darkwing!"

"Shhhh!" Elmo exclaimed, clamping a hand over her mouth. "Remember our cover. We're not Elmo, Gosalyn, and Honker right now. We're two Eggmen Guards, just standing around doing our jobs."

"But—but Darkwing's—"

"He's right, Gosalynd," Honker said. "We've gotta lay low for now. If these F.O.W.L. agents notice us—"

"I know, I know, you're right," Gosalyn grumbled. "But we can move a little closer, at least."

While the disguised rescue party descended slowly to the main level, Agent Steelbeak strutted over to his bound and gagged captives, his back straight and his tail feathers fluffed with cocky self-assurance. Darkwing, Launchpad and GizmoDuck struggled against their chains, mumbling muffled threats through their gags. Steelbeak chuckled and rubbed his hands together.

"Won't be long now, boys. And ma'am," he said, nodding to Dr. Sputterspark. She glared back over her gag with fiery eyes. Steelbeak clucked a laugh.

"I am so enjoying the anticipation of seeing you fry," he said. 

Darkwing and GizmoDuck mumbled and squirmed even harder. 

Steelbeak smiled his steeliest smile.

"But I know you're all dyin' ta know just what exactly this satellite is for," he taunted. "And what this whole elaborate setup has to do with the good Doctor's so-called super-fuel…?"

Darkwing and GizmoDuck settled down for a moment, giving the preening rooster their full attention. 

Steelbeak pretended to hesitate. 

"No, no I really shouldn't. But…ah well, since they're about to roast anyway, what can it hurt, eh?"

Steelbeak cackled again and nudged the nearest Eggman. The Eggman froze for a moment, then quickly slunk away, toward the other side of the satellite. Steelbeak gave him a strange glance, perhaps wondering when F.O.W.L. had started hiring rats, but he didn't comment, too intent on gloating in front of his captives.

"Imagine," he said, spreading his arms theatrically wide. "A modern, mechanized world free from the toxic clutches of oil and coal."

Dr. Sputterspark shook her head and worked her jaw until the cloth gag tied over her mouth loosened enough to allow her to speak. 

"I already have imagined it," she snapped angrily, her words muffled by the gag. "Why'd you think I invented my super-fuel in the first place?"

"Ah, but your vision was small," Steelbeak said. "Invent a clean, recycled super-fuel and hope the world will catch on and reap the benefits. But at what cost, Professor? At what cost?"

"What do you mean?" Dr. Sputterspark said.

"Have you given any thought to what this wondrous invention of yours will do to the world economy? Eh?" the dapper rooster asked.

"I'm a scientist, not an economist," Dr. Sputterspark snapped. "But with the world the way it is now—massive oil spills devastating irreplaceable wildlife, toxic smog choking our cities, melting ice caps…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, the world's a toilet and we're the turds that have to float around in it. But consider this," Steelbeak said. "If that stuff of yours goes on the market and starts to catch on, the world economy will be irrevocably shaken. Oil and coal will be worth less than topsoil. And F.O.W.L. is heavily invested in oil and coal."

"Ah ha! So that's the reasoning behind this shady scheme!" Darkwing exclaimed, finally shaking his bill free of its gag. "If fossil fuels are replaced by Dr. Sputterspark's planet friendly formula, the F.O.W.L. coffers could dry up! They'd lose their influence! But, by stealing Dr. Sputterspark and her super-fuel you ensure oil prices stay high!"

"And you make sure Dr. Sputterspark can't make any more," GizmoDuck added. Unable to loosen his gag on his own, the roboticized duck had finally used one of the many gizmos in his helmet to cut through the cloth. The rest of his suit was so thickly bound in chains, though, that he couldn't access any other controls.

"Again, I am struck by your lack of vision," Steelbeak clucked. "We at F.O.W.L. are not so eco-unfriendly that we would wish to destroy this super-fuel. We can do away with the inventor, sure-we got our samples, we got our scientists, her whinin' and naggin' would just get in our way. But that super-fuel's simply too precious to give up."

"Then what do you intend to do with it?" Dr. Sputterspark demanded.

"We intend to control it!" the dapper rooster crowed. "By capturin' you, not only do we control the super-fuel that's already been made, we can make sure that no more is made unless it's at the demand of F.O.W.L. In other words, we control the product and the means of production. If the world wants this fuel, they'll have to bow to our demands."

"And just what are your demands?" Dr. Sputterspark asked.

"We want the rights," Steelbeak said. "Production and distribution. Not one drop of this spectacular super-fuel is to go on the market unless it's through us."

"You'll never get away with this, Steelbeak," GizmoDuck proclaimed.

Steelbeak rolled his eyes. 

"Is he serious? Look at yourselves! We already have gotten away with it!" He laughed. "This here satellite is a major super weapon. We've had it stored away in this freezing cave for years, but it was always too expensive to fuel up…until we filled it with the good Doctor's invention."

"No!" Dr. Sputterspark exclaimed. "No, I won't have this. My super-fuel is meant only for private and industrial use—for cars, factories, airplanes! I won't have it used as a weapon!"

"Well, you're too late for that, sweetheart," Steelbeak cackled. "Now, initially, this here super-weapon satellite was intended as an oil drill. It's equipped with a laser beam that can cut holes straight through the earth's crust to find even the deepest, most inaccessible crude. But who needs oil wells when you've got super-fuel, eh? So the top Eggheads up at F.O.W.L. Headquarters got to thinking. And they thought, why not use this here drill as a bargaining chip? Capture the scientist and her super-fuel, then hold the world for ransom?"

Dr. Sputterspark scowled. 

"I knew it, I just knew it would be something like this." She glared. "You do know that you're insane."

Steelbeak's smile broadened. 

"Nah. I'm a businessman. But are you getting the implications of what I am saying?" he said. "We have an enormously powerful laser cannon here! Once this thing is up in space, F.O.W.L. will have the power to make any city, town, or community on this dinky little planet literally explode in a flood of lava!"

"You fiend!" GizmoDuck exclaimed. "The government will never give in to your demands!"

"You wanna bet?" Steelbeak smirked. "Our first step, once we get this rocket launched, will be to hold the entire state of Calisota hostage from space. Unless the government coughs up a massive, massive pay-off—say, 100 trillion simoleons—the whole place, Duckburg, St. Canard, all of it, will go kablooie! And once they do pay, with that 100 trillion and sole rights to Sputterspark's super-fuel, F.O.W.L. will control the global economy and therefore the world!"

"No!" Dr. Sputterspark exclaimed, struggling and squirming against her chains for all she was worth. "No, I can't let you do this!"

"I knew you were low, Steelbeak," Darkwing spat, "but I didn't know you were this low. Threatening to blow an entire state off the map just to feather your felonious pockets…"

"Errg, now that is one thing I will not miss about you, Darkwing," Steelbeak said. "Your atrocious alliteration! You two!" He shouted at the pair of Eggman standing at either side of the satellite. "Double check those chains. Make sure they're good and tight. We don't want some last minute heroic escape to foil our plans, eh?"

The two awkward-looking Eggman nodded once, then strode over to Darkwing and GizmoDuck.

"Shh, don't say anything," the Eggman with the strangely small beak whispered in Darkwing's ear. "But it's us! We came to rescue you!"

Darkwing gave a start. 

"What—Gosalyn!" he hissed angrily. "What do you think you're doing! Get out of here, now!"

"Not without you, I won't," Gosalyn retorted. "How you doing with those locks, Honk?"

"Umb, albost got them," Honker's muffled voice came from lower down the suit. "I think."

Elmo grit his teeth and snarled in frustration. 

"Erg, these locks won't budge," he said, rattling GizmoDuck's chains. "We must have grabbed the wrong keys from Steelbeak's desk!"

"If that even was Steelbeak's desk," Gosalyn muttered. "Hold on, why don't you just zap 'em?"

"I don't want to fuse the lock," Elmo said. "But, maybe if I focused the charge… Oh, what I wouldn't give for my battery!"

"Quit whining and just do it!" Gosalyn said. "Steelbeak's starting to look suspicious!"

Elmo pressed his finger against Gizmo's chains and forced a powerful zap of electricity into the lock. The padlock burst open, loosening Gizmo's bonds.

"Great job, Elmo old buddy," GizmoDuck said.

"Yeah, yeah, great, now do Darkwing," Gosalyn insisted.

Elmo zapped Darkwing free, then Launchpad. Then he dashed over to Dr. Sputterspark.

"Hold still, Mother," he said.

"Oh, Elmo," the scientist said as he zapped her free. "If we don't make it out of here, I want you to know how prou—"

"Hey!" Steelbeak called. "What's takin' you two louts so long? Just rattle their chains and get out from there, or I'll push this button and you featherbrains can melt along with those do-goodin' dorks."

Elmo turned his back to Steelbeak and raised his visor so his mother could see his face. 

"Tell me later, Mother," he said, his brown eyes warm, "when we're back at your lab with the super-fuel."

Dr. Sputterspark bit her lip, but watched in silence as her son snapped his visor back down and joined Honker and Gosalyn by Steelbeak's side. Darkwing and GizmoDuck were whispering to each other, something about bursting free and swarming the cocky rooster when the satellite super-weapon's launch countdown got to six.

"Right, then," Steelbeak announced, taking his place behind a waist-high console loaded with blinking knobs, dials, buttons, and levers. "Since the captives are locked firmly in place, it is time to begin. I will start the countdown for launch at ten. Eggheads, open the launch bay doors!"

Everyone in the cavern ooohed an aaahed as the high, domed roof of the cavern slowly spiraled wide open, revealing the clear, blue sky above. Steelbeak cackled in anticipation, his fingers hovering over the button that would ignite the rocket boosters and send the satellite careening into space.

"OK boys and girls. Here we go! In ten…nine…eight… Eh, who am I kidding. Threetwooneblastoff!"

"What—no!" Elmo exclaimed as the towering machine began to rumble and shudder. 

Dr. Sputterspark screamed as a blast of super-heated air burst down on her—a brief precursor for the flames to come.

"MOTHER!"

Ignoring Steelbeak's shouts and Gosalyn and Honker's attempts to pull him back, Elmo raced toward the shuddering satellite. GizmoDuck, Darkwing and Launchpad had already shaken themselves loose and were charging Steelbeak from both sides. Honker waddled out of the way of the fight, straining under Gosalyn's weight as she struggled to unzip the Eggman suit, then jump off of his shoulders. 

Dr. Sputterspark wiggled out of her chain's coils and ran to her son, her glasses askew and her gray hair sticking out from her bun in all directions.

"Elmo, what are you—"

"Mother, that satellite," Elmo gasped. "I looked at the controls. Once the launch sequence is initiated, there's no way to shut it down. F.O.W.L. will have a huge super-weapon orbiting the earth, and with the amount of super-fuel it's carrying its lethal potential won't fade for decades!"

"That isn't our concern, Elmo. It's the superheroes and the military that have the training and expertise to destroy that satellite, not scientists like us. Come with me now and let Darkwing and Gizmo do their job and stop Steelbeak!"

"But that's just it, mother," Elmo said. "They can't stop him. Once that satellite's in space, all F.O.W.L. would have to do is build another remote control console. And who's to say they don't already have one? We can't let that satellite launch!"

"But how can we stop it?" Dr. Sputterspark asked. "You already said there's no way to shut it down."

"But, Mother… There is."

"What do you…" She trailed off, her eyes opening wide with horror. "No. Elmo, you can't."

"No, Mother. I'm the only one who can."

"But you'll be killed!"

Elmo shook his head. 

"Mother, my body can handle the charge. I've had the entire power supply for St. Canard charge through my system, and I came out of it alive."

"Alive, perhaps. But your mind, honey. Your sanity… If you do this, if you lose yourself, I don't know if I'll be able to repair you again. I…I can't, I couldn't…"

"I'll be OK, Mother," Elmo said, and pulled off his Eggman helmet. "You saved me. Now it's my turn to save you." He smiled and kissed the top of her head. "I love you, Mother."

With that, Elmo dashed the rest of the way to the satellite, climbing up the metal rungs at its side to reach the nearest access panel.

"Elmo. Elmo—no!" Dr. Sputterspark cried, but her screams were lost in the enormous roar of flame that knocked her off her feet as the engines finally ignited. "Elmo…"

The access panel was locked tight, but Elmo fixed that with a concentrated zap from his fingertip. Inside was a mess of wires and circuit boards. The engines had ignited, there wasn't time to figure it all out. Taking a deep breath, Elmo Sputterspark pulled out as many wires as he could grab and shoved his hand deep into the satellite's electronics.

At once, he felt the power crawling up his arm, tingling at first then buzzing. The energy surged through him, stronger and stronger, and he drew it in, welcoming the familiar euphoria as the energy flowed through his brain, tickling, coaxing, teasing. As the power levels rose, he tried to hold on, tried to remember… But remember what? There was nothing to remember but the power, the endless power, caressing him, consuming him...

At the other end of the cavern—which was quickly emptying of all Eggheads and Eggmen who wanted to avoid what looked to be a potentially messy explosion—Darkwing, Launchpad, GizmoDuck and Steelbeak paused their fierce fistfight to stare at the juddering satellite.

"Whoa," Launchpad said, "is that Elmo up there? What does he think he's doing?"

"Looks like he's trying to stop the launch," GizmoDuck observed. "See, he's redirecting the current, absorbing all the satellite's energy into his own body!"

"But that's impossible," Darkwing said, staring at the electrocuting rat with horrified awe. "Even Megavolt couldn't withstand that big a charge. Elmo had to know that..." He trailed off, visibly shaken by what he was seeing.

The massive machine was crackling with electricity from tail to tip, all of it focusing in on Elmo's lanky figure. The electricity lashed around him like coiled lightening, growing brighter and brighter until they all had to shield their eyes. The mechanical pitch of the suffering satellite rose higher until it was as shrill as a scream.

"Noo!" Steelbeak snarled, struggling against Gizmo's robotic grip. "Let me go! Let me at him! If that numbskull wrecks that satellite-!"

And then, suddenly, all was quiet. The satellite lurched then sagged, no longer a threat, just a smoking heap. And there, sprawled on the floor some ten feet away, was

"ELMO!" Dr. Sputterspark screamed.

GizmoDuck held Steelbeak fast as Darkwing, Launchpad, Gosalyn, and Honker followed the scientist to her son's smoking body. There was an awful smell, like burnt hair and scorched rubber, but Dr. Sputterspark didn't even wrinkle her nose as she fell to her knees by his side and gathered his head and shoulders up into her lap.

"Is he…?" Gosalyn asked her father, her eyes wide and nervous. 

Darkwing shook his head.

"I don't know, Gos," he said quietly.

"Elmo?" Dr. Sputterspark whispered, her voice trembling as she stroked her son's frazzled hair. "Elmo, baby, can you hear me?"

Bringing her ear to his chest, she gasped, then laid him flat on the floor. "No." Fisting her hands together, she raised them high, then slammed them both hard against Elmo's chest.

"Wake up!" she screamed. Hitting him again, she said, "Wake up, Elmo! Come on, baby, breathe for me! Open your eyes and breathe!"

Gosalyn slipped her hand into Darkwing's and huddled close as they watched, silent and somber. Dr. Sputterspark pounded Elmo's chest one final time, then sat back, sobbing.

"No…" she sobbed. "No, you promised me. You said you could handle the charge. You said you'd be OK."

"Dr. Sputterspark…" Darkwing started. "Anita. I…"

Anita turned on him, her brown eyes blazing through her glasses. 

"Don't you dare tell me you're sorry, Darkwing Duck," she said. "You never cared about my son. To you he was a villain, a monster! No, don't touch me!"

Darkwing pulled his hand back from her arm as if he'd been burned. Anita climbed to her feet and scanned the deserted lab, her frantic eyes falling on a thick orange cable near a particularly large workstation. Grabbing the cable, she dashed over to GizmoDuck and jabbed one end into the adapter outlet on his chest. Before he could think to protest, she was back at Elmo's side, stripping the protective coating from the cable's end to reveal the copper wires inside. The copper sparked, and she smiled a wild smile.

"I never gave up hope that you were out there," she whispered. "I never stopped believing I'd see you again. And I refuse to lose hope now."

"No—Dr. Sputterspark, what are you doing!" GizmoDuck exclaimed, but he was too late. Elmo's mother pressed the sparking wires to her son's chest. The surge of electricity made his skinny body shudder and twitch, but she didn't let up. She kept the juice flowing until, suddenly, her son's eyes shot wide open and he drew in a shaky, shuddering breath. 

GizmoDuck gasped from the power drain and pulled the cord out of his chest.

"He's alive!" Gosalyn exclaimed, jumping up to give Darkwing a happy squeeze. "Elmo's alive!"

Darkwing held his daughter close, but kept his wary eyes on Dr. Sputterspark's son. Was it Elmo who had just woken up: the smart, resourceful rat who had knowingly risked his life to stop F.O.W.L.? Or had Dr. Sputterspark just revived one of St. Canard's most dangerous supervillains?

"He's alive," Dr. Sputterspark breathed, and a tear flowed down her cheek. Her son closed his eyes and sighed, falling into a deep, exhausted sleep. Dr. Sputterspark rose to her feet and brushed the dust off her knees, then fixed Darkwing with a sharp look.

"So," she said. "What do you plan to do now?"

"Who is he, Anita?" he asked her seriously. "You looked into his eyes. Did he recognize you?"

"You leave my son to me," she said. "He's my responsibility now. I asked you a question, Duck."

"I plan to take Agent Steelbeak in to the authorities," Darkwing said. "Along with you and that super-fuel of yours. Can you extract it from the satellite?"

"No need," she said, glancing down at her sleeping son. "It's gone."

"Gone?"

"Used up."

Honker's eyes widened behind his glasses. 

"Wow. You mean Elmo absorbed all that energy? Enough to power Duckburg for over a year?"

"He said he could do it, and he did it," she said quietly. "He stopped the satellite's launch. My son is a hero. He risked his life and saved the world. And he won't get any of the credit, will he."

"What do you mean?" Gosalyn asked. "Of course he'll get the credit! Even Da—I mean, Darkwing's ego isn't that big."

Darkwing frowned and looked Anita in the eye. 

"Elmo didn't make it, did he," he said. "He's gone."

"My Elmo is not gone!" Anita snapped. "He's in there, but he's trapped. Can't you understand that?"

"I don't think you understand how dangerous Megavolt really is," Darkwing retorted. "He's not like your Elmo, Professor. He's cruel. Deranged."

"He's sick!" she insisted. "And whatever terrible things he may have done in the past, he can't be held responsible. If you're the superhero you claim to be, you should want to help him, not hunt him!"

"Eeerrrrggghhhhhhh."

Anita gasped and turned back to her son, her eyes wide with hope. 

"Elmo," she said. "Elmo, honey, is that you?"

"Ow, my head!" the lanky rat moaned. "I feel like I've been run over by a Mack truck." Sitting up, he looked around, clearly disoriented. "Hey, where am I? And where's all my stuff?" He patted his Eggman suit, reaching around the back for a battery that wasn't there. "Which one of you thieves stole my stuff?"

His eyes fell on Darkwing's purple cape, and he followed it up to Darkwing's wary face.

"Hey, I remember you! You're that guy…DarkDuck Drake. No, wait, that's not right."

"Elmo, it's OK," Dr. Sputterspark said. "I can explain—"

"Keep back!" he exclaimed. "Don't come near me! It's starting to come back now. There was…there was an explosion. And you…you…"

He clutched his hair in both hands and jumped up and down in frustration. 

"No, I can't remember! It's like trying to focus through roaring static! The sound, the buzzy buzzy buzzing... It's driving me mad, I tell you! MAD!"

"Elmo, no, don't hurt yourself—"

"Don't call me that!" the raving rat exclaimed. "My brain…it's…it's alive, it's shouting at me. Stop shouting at me!"

"Whoa. He's worse than before," Launchpad commented as the lanky rat crashed to the floor and started rolling around, his hands clamped over his ears.

Gosalyn winced at the sight. 

"Do you think you can fix him again, Dr. Sputterspark?" she asked.

Anita looked helpless. "Well, I-"

"Doctor?"

The raving rat stopped his rolling and looked up, his glassy eyes wide with fear as he started backing away, toward the rushing waterfall at the far end of the cavern.

"No, no doctors! You hear me! No doctor's getting anywhere near my brain! I'll jump first, just you watch me!"

"Stop him!" Anita cried. "Don't let him jump!"

"You don't think I can do it, but I can," he said, his eyes darting all around the room. "I can hear you whispering. All of you light bulbs and computers, so smug… So, you doubt me, do you? Well, I'll show you. Never underestimate Sputtervolt! Megaspark! Meltamo… Oh no! I can't remember my name! I can't I can't I can't I can't…!"

GizmoDuck couldn't leave Steelbeak, but Darkwing pulled out his grappling gun and shot it toward the ranting rat, hoping to reel him closer, away from the waterfall. Dr. Sputterspark held her breath. But, although Darkwing's aim was true, the deranged rat was too quick. With a cry of "Geronimo!" he jumped into the crashing wall of water and disappeared. 

Anita screamed, then suddenly stilled, her eyes rolling back in her head as she passed out. Launchpad caught her and hefted her into his arms, walking up to join GizmoDuck and his charge with Darkwing, Gosalyn, and Honker trailing close behind.

"I'm sorry, Darkwing," Gizmo said sadly. "But I doubt even I would have been able to stop him from jumping. My helicopter would be useless against the pressure of so much falling water."

"So, that nutty rat was Megavolt all along?" Steelbeak snarled. "Lucky for him he jumped. 'Cause if I ever caught him, I'd reach down his throat and—"

"I don't think we need to hear the details, Steelbeak," GizmoDuck interrupted sternly, forcing the criminal agent down the tunnel ahead of him.

Gosalyn looked up at Darkwing as the small group strode somberly back toward the Thunderquack. 

"So, um, do you think he's really gone this time?" she asked him.

Darkwing glanced down at her. 

"Who, Megavolt?"

"No," she said. "Elmo. It's just, I sort of liked him, you know? And I think Dr. Sputterspark had a point. He is sick. But when he was OK, he was a really good guy. And it wouldn't be fair if he has to be stuck as a crazy criminal with no memory for the rest of his life."

Darkwing stared out into the waterfall and sighed. 

"I don't know how to answer that, Gos. All I know is that if Megavolt does show up again, it'll be my duty to track him down. Fair or not, we can't let criminal behavior pass just because that criminal is mentally deranged."

"He's only deranged now because of how he stopped that satellite and saved all of us," Gosalyn said. "I don't know about you, but that makes Mr. Sputterspark a real hero in my book. And I'm going to bet we'll see him again."

"Perhaps," Darkwing said, suddenly looking very tired. "It's been a long day, honey. Let's drop off Steelbeak and Dr. Sputterspark and just go home."

Gosalyn stared at him. 

"What, you mean you're not going to stay for the press conference? I'd think after helping to stop F.O.W.L. from launching that satellite and taking over the world, you'd deserve to bask in the limelight for a while. And make sure GizmoDuck doesn't suck up all the glory for himself," she added out of the corner of her mouth.

Darkwing shook his head. 

"Not this time, Gos. You were right. The credit for this one isn't mine to take. Today, the real hero was Elmo Sputterspark. And the best way we can thank him is to leave his name out of it. The last thing he needs in the state he's in is a million reporters, psychologists, and brain doctors banging down his door. For now, I think it's enough that we know what he did. And that his mother knows her son went out a hero."

Gosalyn raised her eyebrows, then took his arm in hers, hugging him close.

"I love you, Dad," she said.

"Yeah." He gave her a tender little smile. "And I love you too, Gosalyn. Come on, let's get out of here."

*******

High in his lighthouse tower, a mad genius was hard at work. He laughed as he tinkered and soldered and welded and drilled, chatting excitedly with his appliances about his latest crusade to free the suffering light bulbs from their cruel supermarket masters.

The bursts of light and electricity that shot from this madman's workshop reflected out over the dark, nighttime waters of the bay, the glow reaching all the way to Duckburg. There, a lonely scientist sat in her darkened lab, watching the flickering light and hoping that, one day, her son would come home.

The End

Thanks so much for reading my writing!   
Reviews are always welcome. I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you thought of my story! :)


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